Noticing
by itsreykenobi
Summary: Short little drabbles about Natasha and Clint from the other Avenger's viewpoint. Pure, pointless fluff. Clintasha. T for Language.
1. Chapter 1 - Bruce

_Hello! So I finally watched _Captain America 2_ and the arrow necklace had me in river of Clintasha feels so I wrote this little drabble. It's very short and pointless but hey, worth a shot. This is my first non-Doctor Who fanfic on this account so reviews and such would be very appreciated! I've also got lots of one shot ideas for these two so you can expect those in the future. Enjoy!_

Dr Bruce Banner noticed a lot of things. He'd noticed, for example, that whenever Tony was working on something new he'd out two sugars instead of one in his morning coffee. He'd also noticed that Steve bought a paper every morning regardless of the headlines, and laid it on the kitchen table for people to read.

The most noticeable change he'd seen however, was in Natasha Romanoff. She was opening up.

He'd noticed how since working with Cap the two had become increasingly close. He noticed that she was more comfortable and willing to engage in jokes when she was with him. He noticed how she shoved him playfully on the arm as a sister might, and how she kept a keen interest in his love life. He noticed her changing.

Bruce had noticed how her and Pepper now giggles quietly together, usually about something Tony had said. He noticed how she was so much more relaxed when surrounded by people than she used to be.

What Bruce noticed most, however, was the difference in her actions when _he_ was around. It wasn't that her mannerisms were drastically different, but it was the little things (and Bruce knew the little things mattered most). He had noticed, for example, how her head quirked up at his voice, or how when Tony told a joke the corners of her mouth would twitch as Clint threw her a wink.

He noticed too, that it was to her that he went first after a mission. He noticed how their arms effortlessly linked together, and how when she pecked him on the cheek it lasted a fraction too long to be friendly. He noticed how when she talked to him her voice lost it's hard edge and became much more gentle and real.

he noticed.

and he wondered when she would.

_Yay! this was just a short little drabble but I thought I might write similar things from other people's viewpoint if you would like. Reviews are greatly appreciated xx_

_Bye lovelies! _


	2. Chapter 2 - Steve

_Hello again! I really wasn't planning to continue this story but this popped into my head (along with so many other ideas) and I figured why not? It's incredibly short and pointless but I hope you like it all the same :)_

Steve's first to realise. Sure, Banner has his suspicions, but Steve's the first one to be dame well sure of it. It's a tiny little thing, but it means all the world.

They're relaxing around the table in Avengers Tower, it's a sweltering hot day and none of them could be particularly bothered to go out (they're sure the world can handle them having one day off), so they're sipping on smoothies and telling stories.

Natasha's wearing a tank top and Steve notices that her bra strap has slipped off and is now hanging around her shoulder. She hasn't realised yet as she's too caught up in Bruce's story, and he doesn't dare point it out to her because a) it'll embarrass her, b) she'll probably kick his ass _for_ embarrassing her and c) it makes him pretty uncomfortable himself.

But while caught up in his little dilemma the problem fixes itself - by way of Clint. Just like that, the strap's gone and hidden back under the tank top in one swift, intimate movement. She doesn't even jump at the contact, it's natural, like it's been done a thousand times before.

And that's when he knows. He'd seen the signs, of course, gathered hints from their discussion, but now he _knows_. Because friends don't just do that and accept it without an ounce of tension. It's proved in his mind that the action's been done before; that such intimate actions are part of a daily routine.

He knows.

He wonders when the other will.

_Hehe I quite like it although I don't know if I can actually see it happening. As always reviews are greatly appreciated and I have a few more one shots coming up, and who knows, I might even have a go at a story with an actual plot! _

_Bye Lovelies! xxx_


	3. Chapter 3 - Tony

_Hello! So I'm aware it's been a while since I updated so I wanted to say sorry about that! I kind of suck with schedules... anyway I got a request to write Tony next so here it is! This is a little different because I've set it in Age of Ultron, but I've had this scene in my head ever since I found out that Clint owns a farm and that it will appear in aou! Since I'm not sure what's going to happen in aou I've decided to just roll with this. _

_This chapter was much longer than any of the others and also a bit different, but I hope you like it all the same! I'd like to write up a chapter for Thor, but I may do some more with other characters (Maria Hill, Pepper, Coulson etc) if you'd like! Reviews are always welcome (and they make me update faster aha!) xxx_

They're collapsed in the living room on Clint's farm when it happens. They're exhausted, bleeding and can barely focus on anything but the pain. Tony has plonked himself down on the couch next to his suit, and he's aware that he's probably making mud stains on it, but if Clint minds he doesn't say anything. The archer is on the floor next to Natasha, gingerly patching up one of her wounds. If he wasn't feeling so hazy Tony would be shocked to see her so vulnerable, leaning against the archer like he's the only stable thing in her world.

It's about an hour later before anyone speaks. Steve asks if he can go and chop the wood he saw in a pile on the way to the house. Bruce is curled up on the couch, drained from his latest hulk-out. The two assassins move silently into the kitchen to give him some privacy, Tony following in their wake.

"So, Legolas, got any coffee round here?" he asks, forcing himself to adopt a sarcastic tone. Clint nods, but to Tony's surprise it's Natasha who reaches into a cupboard and hands it to him. Tony's eyes narrow suspiciously. _Could it be…?_ His usual demeanour kicking in, he decides to run a few experiments (what? He could really do with a break from thinking about Ultron). He sets about making the coffee, all the while keeping a keen eye on them. They haven't spoken out loud, per sue, but he gets the feeling that they've already had a dozen silent conversations in the time since they arrived.

He shoots another glance at the two assassins, and has to look twice when he catches Natasha's hands making rapid movements. His brow furrows, confused, before his eyes trail up to Clint's ears and he spots the two devices, barely visible, and links them with the hand movements he's now making. _Ohhh_, he mentally hits himself for not noticing sooner. He'd just assumed they were comm devices, but now he's at least 98% sure they're hearing aids. He refocuses on their hands, his sign language is a bit rusty since he's never had a use for it, but he's able to pick up fragments of the conversation here and there.

**_How's your shoulder?_**

**_Could be worse. I just want a good cup of tea and to sleep for a million years._**

Clint's mouth twitches a fraction before he replies.

**_Stark's watching us._**

**_I know._**

Startled momentarily, Tony looks between the two assassins before hastily busying himself with the coffee pot. He can practically hear the smirks on their faces, but it doesn't deter him from his goal. He whips round to face them, his next move already forming in his head.

"So, I hate to be pushy but is there any way I'll be sleeping in a bed instead of a sofa tonight?"

Clint rolls his eyes, glancing over at Natasha. "We've got plenty of spare rooms," he replies, "it's a barn, Stark, not a cave."

Tony grins as he makes note of the pronouns he uses, before following them upstairs. He's redirected to the third door on his left while Natasha calls everyone else up to show them their rooms. It doesn't escape his notice that Clint doesn't mention where Natasha will be sleeping, and he_ certainly_ doesn't miss the fact that the next morning Natasha comes down for breakfast wearing a shirt at least two sizes too big for her.


	4. Chapter 4 - Coulson

_It was a toss up between Coulson and Thor for this chapter, but I've decided to do Coulson first and Thor next, but as always if there are other characters you'd prefer to see please let me know! This chapter is a bit angsty and I'm not really all too happy with it but I'm making do because school has been so hectic it's a miracle I find time to write at all_. _Also I'd just like to take the chance to say thank you for the lovely reviews to my other story "Lost and Found" (also Clintasha), and if you're a reader of that then it will probably be updated sometime soon. That's all for now, again thank you for the lovely responses, they really make me smile xx_

X X X

Hospitals.

He hates them, the stark white of them, so bleak and artificial. But unfortunately his line of work requires far too many trips for his liking.

Clint will be okay, Coulson is sure of it. The archer always manages to pull through, but it doesn't make the torturous wait for information any less painful. He can't help wondering if perhaps this might be the last time, the final visit.

Explosions always have nasty repercussions.

His grip tightens around his coffee cup as he thinks about Clint's injuries; third degree burns all up the left side of his body, a gunshot wound to the shoulder and a punctured lung. They almost lost him then, his body going into shock and violently convulsing.

He steadies himself. This isn't the first time one of his agents – no, one of his _friends_ – has been in a life threatening condition, and it certainly won't be the last. For a moment, he convinces himself that he is okay.

And then he hears the screams.

Hastening to reception he sees a sight that he never imagined to see – that he never thought was _possible_, even.

Natasha Romanoff, covered in mud, with a bandage wrapped around her arm, is screaming profanities at the receptionist while two security guards hold her back.

"What the FUCK – WHERE THE FUCK IS HE – I'M GOING TO –" she aims a kick at the guard, but misses on account of the tears that a blocking her vision. It's that feat that makes his face harden, because both he and Natasha know that if she really wanted to she could have both of the guards pinned down on the floor in a heartbeat. He can see in her eyes that she's given up, she's a wreck, and it's all because Clint Barton is hovering somewhere between life and death.

He'd known, of course. He'd noticed it almost immediately; the way they knew exactly what the other would do depending on the situation they were in, the tiny, comforting gestures they gave each other to reassure them that yes, _everything was okay_. And after Budapest, well, there hadn't been any doubt in his mind that they loved each other. But as he watched Natasha lose control, her eyes wide and frantic, screaming and kicking to see Clint, he wondered if she had realised just how far in she let herself get.

X X X

Clint pulls through, of course, and if Coulson turns a blind eye to the many complaints that arrive on his desk during the following week about finding the two agents locked in compromising positions, well, who can blame him.


End file.
